Amber: the forgotten  Jessica's tale: retold
by brandier
Summary: It's been said Oberon of Amber had 47 illegitimate heirs to the throne...I am counted among those illegitimates . . . My name is Jessica Barimen.


Coby Lynd

1942 State St. # D

Abilene, TX 79603

325-260-6207

jedi_

Amber: the forgotten

As transcribed by Coby Lynd

Copyright © 2010 **Tiger Force Gaming **

Warning: contains adult situations, graphic violence, and explicit language.

_The use of violence as a plot device is not an acknowledgment of approval of such activities by author._

Based on characters and situations created for: _**Amber Diceless Role Playing**___

_**Phage Press**_

_**P.O. Box 519**__**ར**__**Detroit MI**__**ར**____**48231-0519**_

Based on Roger Zelazny's

**Chronicles of Amber**__:

Corwin's Saga:_** Nine Princes in Amber, The Guns of Avalon, Sign of the Unicorn, **_

_**The Hand of Oberon, and The Courts of Chaos **_

Merlin's Saga:_** Trumps of Doom, Blood of Amber, Sign of Chaos, Knight of Shadows, **_

_**and Prince of Chaos**_

Amber's chronological dating*

2387.4 d'L = A.D. 1968 Corwin chronicles book1: Nine Princes in Amber

2390 d'L = A.D. 1977 Corwin chronicles book 5: Courts of Chaos

2393.5 d'L = A.D. 1984 Merlin Chronicles

*Krulik, Theodore. The Complete Amber Sourcebook. New York: Avon Books, 1996.

_**Chapter 1**_: _Shadows of Truth_

[Dworkin] "What would another generation have been like?" He chuckled

[Corwin] "How can such a question be answered? I have no idea." (Roger Zelazny's_**Hand of Oberon**_)

I am about to answer that question.

A beginning is a very delicate time . . . especially if your whole life is but a Shadow of the truth . . . every possible reality exists in Shadow they say . . .

'_Many of the truths we cling to, depend greatly upon our own point of view.' – Master Obi-Wan Kenobi_

[Oberon's Pattern Ghost] "I can recite the entire genealogy of the royal House of Amber."

[Merlin] "So can any good scribe back home."

[Oberon] "I'll throw in the illegitimates."

[Merlin] "How many were there, anyway?"

[Oberon] "Forty-seven, that I know of."

[ Merlin] "Aw, come on! How'd you manage?"

[Oberon] "Different time streams," he said smiling. (Roger Zelazny's _**Knight of Shadows)**_

I am counted among those illegitimates . . .

My name is Jessica Barimen. I have brown eyes. I weigh about 48 kilos; stand approximately 168 cm high; have an incredible athletic 86B-55-86 cm figure [id est 106 lb.; 5' 6"; 34B-22-34 inches]. Although I've always tried to maintain a rich golden tan, I have fair skin. I have long, beautiful, brown hair on my head with eyebrows and long lashes to match, but that's it, not even hair one between my legs. I've never touched a razor in my life. I have no body hair whatsoever. My absolute physical age is 21, though I've lived much longer.

I would prefer to roam au naturel and discalceate, but even in Amber, clothes are required. My style would be equivalent to 14th – 15th Century European on Shadow Earth or Jedi Robes. I prefer dresses to breaches and sandals to boots [if I must wear shoes].

'_Shoes were invented by the Sith to keep our delicate toes in anguish and misery, I'm sure of it.' —Tahiri to Anakin Solo, 26 ABY_

My colors are blue, black and a touch of gold [id est -for all the heralds reading this: _Azure, Sable, Or_]. I don't wear much jewelry, except on formal occasions, but I'll wear earrings occasionally, perhaps a ring or two, a necklace, or a bracelet [rarely all at once]. Okay, back to my story . . .

**Amber time: 2257-2269 d'L**

Seventy-two years before the_ Battle of Yavin_, a twelve-year-old girl named Lurlyne Lynco was abandoned on Mimban.

The planet Mimban, also known as Circapous V, is part swamp, part jungle, and part bog. It is the world which holds the Kaiburr Crystal. The crystal is said to have the power to make someone that is Force-sensitive virtually invincible.

At the age of fourteen, Lurlyne conceived me by a middle-aged man with thick black hair and a beard streaked with silver, his name was Oberon. Oberon left us before I was born. One month later, she met an aging Jedi named Alandean and his blue-skinned female companion Malina. They had come to Mimban in search of the Kaiburr Crystal and the Sith Temple which contained it.

I don't remember Master Alandean, at least not in the sense non-Jedi remember people. I remember a prenatal test he did on me. I remember him telling my mother, "The child's midi-chlorian level is unusually high, and there is an unidentified factor in her chemistry. Something I've never seen before."

Malina searched for the temple of the crystal, while Alandean taught my mother to use her Force ability. He died before I was born. Malina was not a Jedi, but she did have knowledge of the Force, and tried to continue my mother's training after his death. I listened and learned as much as an unborn infant could. My mother died in childbirth, Malina took me to the Jedi Temple . . .

'_Always in motion is the future, difficult to see.' – Master Yoda_

**Amber Time: 2280-2282 d'L**

I was a Padawan to a Jedi Mistress named Seasaidh Phelan (Shay-see Fay-lin). While we were on assignment to Kashyyyk, late one night, I was eleven and feeling an irresistible pull toward the forest and the life within, I snuck out of the village, wearing only my night shift.

I was intoxicated by the freshness of the air. The full moon was my light in the darkness. I was a nymph flittering on the forest floor. The dangers of the forest ignored by me and me by them.

My shift caught a low hanging tree branch. It tore as I struggled to get free, so I discarded it. At first, the cool night air sent a chill rippling through my body, but I soon shrugged it off. The lonely cry of a wolf-like beast in the distance excited me. Like that wolfen, I was at peace with the night, one with the great forest that is Kashyyyk.

I later encountered the wolfen pack. They took me as one of their own, for the night, and shared with me their meal. At sunrise I left them with a fond farewell.

I bathed in a pond, nearby where I left the wolfen. Then I lay in the sun on the shore to dry. As the sun rose higher, I sat beneath a great tree. I could feel its strength and discovered that I could draw upon that strength.

I began to take in the scents of the day as I had the night. It was then I saw her for the first time, The Unicorn of Amber. Soft, shimmering white as if covered in down rather than fur and maning; her tiny cloven hooves and the delicate, whorled horn, that rose from her narrow head, were golden. She looked straight at me with her bright, emerald green eyes.

A soft, gentle, almost sensual voice echoed in my head as I stared into those piercing eyes, "Guard well the truth young one. The hour of your destiny comes." She made a quick gesture with her front feet, pawing the air and striking the ground, three times. Then she blurred and vanished like a snowflake, silently.

I could hear the baying of Wookies and feel the presence of my Mistress. I looked around and realized the day had passed. It was early evening and they had finally come to find me. I stood up despite a slight cramp. I began to dust myself off when I realized I was bleeding, not from any wound, my menses had begun. I had also begun developing breasts. _How long had I been out there?_

The Wookie hunters broke through the woods. They stopped before me. The leader called to my Mistress 'we found her.' The call is answered by a blow from a hunting horn. They circled me and in unison sat on their haunches, patiently waiting for my Mistress. When Seasaidh saw the blood, she nearly panicked.

"It's alright, Mistress," I said, for the first time, using the Force to calm an adult. "I am a young woman now, nothing more."

She threw her cloak around me, lifted me upon the back of the Wookie leader and we climbed back up to the village. I told Mistress Phelan I had a dream that the tree was trying to communicate with me. A lecture on the sanctity of all life . . . A warning about the seductive nature of darkness . . . A suggestion to ignore that advice and fulfill my destiny and rule Amber . . . The Force gives you your power . . . Life creates it . . . It surrounds us and binds us. Like most dreams it makes little sense without contemplation, a time-consuming luxury I did not have. She suggested we ask Master Yoda upon our return to Coruscant.

Even Master Yoda could make no sense of my vision. "It is the future you see. Always in motion is the future, difficult to see," was all he said.

**Amber time: 2287.3 d'L rakasa ~/ **_**Rite of Passage**_ (1716 C.E.)

More or less I turned eighteen. Today, however, marked my ascension to adulthood. This was the day I walked the Pattern for the first time. We were on the planet Mimban, unexplainably drawn there. I glimpsed it, white as I had seen it on the floor of Kashyyyk, standing, half hidden, amid a clump of ferns: the unicorn. It turned as I moved, and seconds later flashed ahead, to stand partly concealed once more by the trunks of several trees.

"I see it!" Seasaidh whispered. "To think there really is such a beast . . . Your family's emblem, isn't it?"

"Yes, I believe so."

"A good sign, I'd say, that your destiny lies upon a different path from mine."

I did not answer, but followed, keeping it in sight. That it was meant to be followed I did not doubt. It had a way of remaining partly concealed the entire while – looking out from behind something, passing from cover to cover, moving with an incredible swiftness when it did move, avoiding open areas, favoring glade and shade. We followed, deeper and deeper into the wood which had given up all semblances of anything to be found on Mimban's surface. It resembled Endor, now, as the ground was relatively level and the trees grew more and more stately.

An hour had passed, I guessed, and another had followed it, before we came to a small, clear stream and the unicorn turned and headed up it. As we followed along the bank, Seasaidh commented, "This is starting to look sort of familiar."

"Yes," I said, "but only sort of. I can't quite say why."

"Nor I."

We entered upon a slope shortly thereafter, and it grew steeper before very long. The going became more difficult, but the unicorn adjusted its pace to accommodate us. The ground became rockier, the trees smaller. The stream curved in its splashing course. I lost track of its twists and turns, but we were finally nearing the top of the small mount up which we had been traveling.

We achieved a level area and continued along it toward the wood from which the stream issued. At this point I caught an oblique view ahead and to the right, through a place where the land fell away of an icy blue sea, quite far below us.

Ahead lay an area strewn with boulders. Amid them a spring uttered the stream we followed. The unicorn mounted the rock nearest the spring, looked at us, then turned away. It might have been staring down at the ocean.

Then, as we continued, the grove, the unicorn, the trees about us, the stream beside us took on an unusual clarity, all, as though each were radiating some special illumination, causing it to quiver with the intensity of its color while at the same time wavering, slightly, just at the edges of perception. This produced in me an incipient feeling like the beginning of the emotional accompaniment to what I would learn to call a Hellride.

Then, then and then, with each stride, something went out of the world about us. An adjustment in the relationships of objects suddenly occurred, eroding, my sense of depth, destroying perspective, rearranging the display of articles within my field of vision, so that everything presented its entire outer surface without simultaneously appearing to occupy an increased area: angles predominated, and relative sizes seemed suddenly ridiculous.

Light values shifted next. The sky grew black, not as night, but like a flat, nonreflecting surface. So did certain vacant areas between objects. The only light left in the world seemed to originate from things themselves, and all of it was gradually bleached. Various intensities of white emerged from the planes of existence, and brightest of all, immense, awful, the unicorn suddenly reared, pawing at the air, filling perhaps ninety percent of creation with what became a slow motion gesture I feared would annihilate us if we advanced another pace.

Then there was only the light.

Then absolute stillness.

Then the light was gone and there was nothing. Not even blackness. A gap in existence, which might have lasted an instant or an eternity . . .

Then the blackness returned, and the light. Only they were reversed. Light filled the interstices, outlining voids that must be objects. The first sound that I heard was the rushing of water, and I knew somehow that we were halted beside the spring. Then I smelled the sea.

Then the Pattern came into view, or a distorted negative of it . . . I leaned forward and more light leaked around the edges of things. I leaned back; it went away. Forward again, this time farther than before . . . The light spread, introduced various shades of gray into the scheme of things. With each pace, something returned to the world. Surfaces, textures, colors . . .

Behind me, I heard Seasaidh begin to follow. Below me, the Pattern surrendered nothing of its mystery, but it acquired a context which, by degrees, found its place within the larger reshaping of the world about us.

Continuing downhill, a sense of depth reemerged. The sea, now plainly visible off to the right, underwent a possibly purely optical separation from the sky, with which it seemed momentarily to have been joined in some sort of Urmeer of the waters above and the waters below. Unsettling upon reflection, but unnoted while in effect. We were heading down a steep, rocky incline which seemed to have taken its beginning at the rear of the grove to which the unicorn had led us. Perhaps a hundred meters below us was a perfectly level area which appeared to be solid, unfractured rock roughly oval in shape, a couple of hundred meters along its major axis. The slope down which we rode swung off to the left and returned, describing a vast arc, a parenthesis, half cupping the smooth shelf. Beyond its rightward jutting there was nothing that is to say the land fell away in steep descent toward that peculiar sea.

And, continuing, all three dimensions seemed to reassert themselves once more. The sun was that great orb of molten gold we had seen earlier. The sky was a deeper blue than that of any world I'd ever seen, and there were no clouds in it. That sea was a matching blue, unspecked by sail or island. I saw no birds, and I heard no sounds other than our own. An enormous silence lay upon this place, this day. In the bowl of my suddenly clear vision, the Pattern at last achieved its disposition upon the surface below. I thought at first that it was inscribed in the rock, but as we drew nearer I saw that it was contained within it goldpink swirls, like veining in an exotic marble, naturalseeming despite the obvious purpose to the design.

I stopped and Seasaidh came up beside me. We regarded it in silence for a long while.

The unicorn's voice in my head explained, "The Pattern begins in the far corner. From there, the walker places one foot down carefully after the other, until after expending great energy, the Pattern's center comes into sight. Upon reaching the center, the walker, by an act of will, can go to any desired location. It's an ordeal, but it's not impossible or we wouldn't be here. Take it very slowly and don't let yourself he distracted. Don't be alarmed by the shower of sparks that will arise with each step. They can't hurt you. You'll feel a mild current passing through you the whole time, and after a while you'll start feeling high. But keep concentrating, and don't forget keep walking! Don't stop, whatever you do, and don't stray from the path, or it'll kill you. Only those whose veins bear the Blood of Amber may walk the Pattern and live." [Or so the legend says . . . ]

"There lies the true path of your destiny my Padawan," Mistress Phelan said. "May the Force be with you."

I strode forward, setting my left foot upon the path. It was outlined with blue-white sparks. Then I set my right foot upon it, and I felt a current. I took another step.

There was a crackle and I felt my hair beginning to rise. I took another step.

Then the thing began to curve, abruptly, back upon itself. I took ten more paces, and a certain resistance seemed to arise. It was as if a black barrier had grown up before me, but some substance which pushed back upon me with each effort I made to pass forward.

I fought. It was the First Veil . . . I saw the great temple of the Kaiburr Crystal. I saw the gem itself only centimeters from my infant body. It glowed brightly. As my umbilical cord was cut, the Crystal glowed even brighter. My umbilicus healed without a trace.

...Each raising and lowering of my foot suddenly required a terrible effort, the sparks shot from my hair. I concentrated on the fiery line.

Suddenly, the pressure was eased. The veil had parted before me as abruptly as it occurred.

I was well into the Pattern now, the sparks flashed continually about my feet, reaching to the height of my knees. I no longer knew which direction I faced . . . The currents swept through me, and it seemed my eyeballs were vibrating. Then came a pins-and-needles feeling in my cheeks and a coldness on the back of my neck, I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering.

I took six more rapid steps, reaching the end of the arc and came to the beginning of a straight line.

I sat my foot upon it, but each step I took, another barrier began to arise against me. It was the Second Veil . . .

...visions of childhood at the Jedi Temple . . . Running naked through the forest of Kashyyyk . . . My first fencing match with a real lightsabre . . .

There was a right-angle turn, then another, then another. Another curve began, it was as though I were walking in glue as I moved slowly along it.

One, two, three, four . . . I raised my fiery sandals and let them down again. It was tricky . . . Instinctively, I knew that to leave the Pattern before I'd completed it would mean my death. I dared not raise my eyes from the places of light that lay before me, to see how far I had come, how far I had yet to go.

I emerged from the filigree and marched along the Grand Curve. I walked three more curves, a straight line, a series of sharp arcs. Ten turns which left me feeling dizzy, another short arc, a straight line, and the Final Veil.

It was agony to move. Everything tried to beat me aside. The air was cold, then hot. It seemed that the winds were constantly pushing against me. I struggled, putting one foot before the other. The sparks reached as high as my waist at this point, then my breasts, my shoulders. They were in my eyes. They were all about me. I could barely see the Pattern itself.

Then a short arc, and then blackness. One, two . . . And to take the last step was like trying to push through a duracrete wall. I did it!

I couldn't help feeling the Pattern was alive somehow. I felt as if it were trying to hide certain things from me, like the reason I was brought here. One thing for sure it has a sense of humor, but I'll explain in a moment. I bid Mistress Phelan adieu and decided I wanted to return to the Shadow of Star Wars and study my powers, to find the Kaiburr Crystal and to find someone to teach me their secrets.

I found myself aboard the Starliner Xylina, a stowaway. Hours later, I was discovered hiding in the engine room by one of the crewmen. He promised not to turn me in, to the ship's captain, or throw me out the airlock, if I was a good girl and entertained him, en route to Coruscant. [Great joke, huh?] He tore off my dress and began to fondle me. In panic, my instincts threw him off me with a telekinetic push. I was barely eighteen, but I had the power to push a grown man across the engine room with a thought. He smashed into a console. The engines went off-line and the ship fell out of hyperspace in the middle of an asteroid field.

The ship took heavy damage and plunged into the atmosphere of Ingo. I climbed into an escape pod which jettisoned just before the crash. Almost a thousand citizens of the Empire died because I tried to save my virtue. All I received was a concussion, a few bruises, minor cuts, and two broken legs. I was the only survivor.

Tig Fromm found me and took me to the bacta-tank himself. His father, Sise, a crime boss planned to put me to work in an escort service, but Sise promised Tig could use me anytime after I was healed. Fortunately, the Force or perhaps the Pattern intervened.

I'm not even aware how long I remained in the tank. I was taken from the bacta-bath, naked and a little scared, I was lead through the corridors of an office building to a corner office or conference room. A silver-blonde, blue-skinned woman stood before me, or vice versa. She dismissed the guards with a wave of her hand.

When they had gone in the door closed behind them, she whispered, "The Force is with you, and I sense another great power unlike any I felt before except in one other."

"Milady, who are you?" I asked.

"A friend. To be truly one with the Force, you must be as pure in body as you are in spirit. Both are impossible as a slave in the capacity for which you've been intended by Fromm," she responded.

Within days, I was under her tutelage. Her name was Malina. She was the same companion that traveled with Alandean that taught my birth mother. One of the first new lessons I learned was how to construct a lightsabre. "Traditionally this is one of the last lessons taught," she said. "But these are desperate times." It was then she gave me a shard from the Kaiburr Crystal for use in its construction. I also learned I was fifty-three years into the future. The peaceful Republic I had known was replaced by a tyrannical Galactic Empire, ruled by a Sith Lord.

We traveled the galaxy for three years. By the Imperial Standard Calendar, it was one year before the Battle of Yavin, I was still physically eighteen, even though I should be 21, but by Amber's calendar it was still 2287 d'L for least one more Imperial Year. The day I turned 'twenty-one' we returned to Ingo and Malina vanished into the deserts, leaving me at the spaceport. [Note: Amberites are virtually immortal and age slowly.]

I sat in a hole-the-wall cantina, several months later, called the Spacer's Rest. My dirty blue dress sported a tattered hem just below my knees. A black-hooded cloak hung loosely over my rather broad shoulders. My sandals, more than a little worn, were laced up my calves. On my right forearm I wore a Mandalorian vambrace wired with a microcomputer and comlink. Magnetically clipped to the vambrace was my lightsabre. A typical Jedi I was not, fortunately, I wasn't on any of the Emperor's Most Wanted lists either.

The air was filled with smoke. The scent of intoxicants, both illegal and legal, permeated the air. I leaned against the bar sipping a glass of Corellian brandy. The bartender, a Twi'lek, grew impatient with me to finish my drink or order another. I was nursing it carefully, because I was out of money, and I think he suspected.

I knew he cheated at least four customers, since I had ordered mine. I watched him water down the already weak liquor he served. I also saw him take another unwary spacer's money from the bartop. I called him over, while he still had the money in his hand.

"Adylroc, you're right," I said, downing my drink. "I need another."

"Ha! I caught you now, girl!" He said, leku twitching with delight, "you don't have any money, so . . . "

"But I just paid you, my friend," I said calmly, waving my fingers slightly. He opened his hand, as I knew he would, and found five hard credits. Before he could reconsider what I had done, I pressed the issue, "Now, Adylroc, please, another Corellian brandy. This time, make it the straight stuff not the water bottle."

The Twi'lek began mumbling, as he poured my drink. I may never be sure whether was the Force, the Pattern, or chutzpah, but Adylroc never questioned my payment of that second drink. I am sure he wanted me to 'work off' my tab in his upper rooms.

A brash young Corellian smuggler and his Wookie companion walked in. The Wookie's fur was white and he seemed much shorter than he should be. The Corellian had thinning brown hair, pulled back in a queue. His bluish green eyes were accented by his gold rimmed spectacles. He wore his side arm, holstered low, tied at the thigh. The holster cut so that it exposed the Blastec DL-44's trigger and trigger guard. He couldn't be older than thirty, but likely no older than twenty-five or so.

The lean young Corellian caught my gaze and walked immediately to the bar. I turned away as he approached, trying to ignore him. The long fur of his companion brushed my bare leg. Instinctively, I twitched at the ticklish sensation to shew it away. My cloak dropped to the floor as I did.

The Wookie growled something as the man picked up my cloak. Draping it around my shoulders and lightly caressing them in the process, he said, "Chacca says he's sorry. His fur needs to be brushed again."

"Nice line," I retorted. "Stow it, fly-boy."

"Take it easy, sweetheart," he responded. "The name's Hawke Hunter."

"Jessica Barimen," I replied, less politely then he expected. He moved to take my hand in his, but my Amber-born Jedi reflexes caught his arm instead. "Hands-off, Hunter!"

My right arm placed as if my lightsabre were a wrist blaster pointed between his eyes. The Wookie growled and the Corellian made a motion with his free hand to back down.

"Let's not do anything rash, dear lady," chimed the voice of a tall camel-faced humanoid. "The name is Doc. Let me buy you three a drink, and we can all start over."

Doc began telling us he was looking to hire a ship and crew to find a rare mushroom on an obscure planet near the Outer Rim. Somehow he managed to slip some form of toxin into our drinks as he handed them to us. I used my Jedi powers to detoxify myself, but Hunter and Chacca weren't so lucky.

"Congratulations, you're now infected with the Oroblram virus," Doc said with a blunt-toothed grin. "The only cure is made from the Camaroom native only to Arboria."

Chacca picked up to camel-faced man roaring loudly. Hunter drew his blaster demanding, "Give us the antidote, Doc, or I'll let my friend here rip your arms out of their sockets!"

"If he does, you'll all die," Doc insisted. "You have three months to get to Arboria, retrieve the fungi and returned it to me before you all die a horrible death."

"Give us the coordinates to Arboria," I piped in. "And tell us how to identify this fungus."

I could tell Doc was lying about what he'd given us, in fact it was nothing more than a mild case of the Corellian flu, but I wanted off this rock and violence wouldn't solve our problems. Using the Force to Farsee, I learned nothing specific, but I had a feeling we were meant to go to Arboria.

Within an hour, Hunter's ship the BlackHawke rocketed off the dustball known as Ingo, bound for the jungle world Arboria. An old tramp freighter captain is quoted as having said, 'there's no such thing as a Corellian Stock light freighter.' This was a truism, the fact they were still called that was a joke, for no two YT-1300s were alike, at least not anymore. Each new owner these old ships modified them so many times even the designers would have a hard time recognizing most of them.

The BlackHawke was no exception. She had a faster engine; and extra cargo bay built up where the front fork used to be; passenger facilities for six in addition to space for a crew of four [although most of the circuits were slaved for two]. One of the escape pods had been replaced with a heavy laser cannon. She had better than average shields. In truth, the one thing "stock" about her was the two laser cannons mounted in the central gunwell.

The remainder of the BlackHawke's crew consisted of an astromech droid with a superiority complex. Her designation R3-L9, but Hunter called her 'Arlene.' He had won her in a Sabbacc game and claims he tried to erase her memory twice, but she managed to retain her personality files.

During our hyperspace flight to Arboria, I learned quite a bit about the YT-1300 series from Arlene. I also learned Hawke Hunter was competing to rival another Corellian smuggler by the name of Han Solo. So far all he really managed to do was go into debt to a Hutt called Garrla.

Hunter scanned the planet when we entered orbit, besides the landing beacon of an Imperial Garrison he found no signs of civilization. Chacca spoke up in his native 'grunt and growl' language. Hawke replied, "I suppose it's possible, 'else the Empire relocated an entire population."

"What did he say?" I asked, even with the Force and my Amber born language skills I didn't understand the Wookie.

"He said maybe the Arborians have developed a biotechnology similar to his home world of Kashyyyk," Hunter responded. "Let's land somewhere away from the Imperial Garrison and get what we came for."

Hunter found a clearing large enough to land the BlackHawke and we disembarked to search for the Camaroom. Within minutes we found the giant mushroom-like fungus. "He didn't mention they moved," Hunter commented as the fungus try to escape. An alarmed whistle and beeping noise rose from the direction of the ship. "That's Arlene!" Hunter said as he turned to race back.

The BlackHawke was covered in vines and Arlene was trying to keep them from creeping into the ship via the open landing ramp. Hunter ran into the ship cursing the whole planet. Chacca and I attempted to free the ship. I used my lightsabre and the Wookie tried pulling or shooting at the vines.

Power cables snapped. Hull plates buckled. The vines were literally tearing the ship apart. Suddenly from out of the trees came laser bolts and humans dressed in leather and silk. The men and women looked as if they jumped out of a Robin Hood or a Flash Gordon movie.

Numerous loud thunks and the ship began to rise, but not under her own power, rather the power of a winch from above, pulling cables attached to crossbow bolts imbedded in the hull.

Chacca jumped onto the landing ramp and disappeared. One of the tree men grabbed me around the waist and we began to rise also. The man was armed with a pistol version of a laser crossbow and a rapier. Several others among his people were similarly armed. Others carried rifle variants of the Wookie bowcaster sized for human hands.

At the top of our ascent was a city and landing pad. The BlackHawke was carefully lowered into position on the pad. The winch or crane seemed to be part mechanical and part organic. Chacca appears to have been right. Everywhere I looked, I saw a perfect blending between technology and biology.

An honor guard of sorts, more men and women from that holo-vid throwback style, flanked a tall, handsome, dark-haired, dark-skinned man. His clothes were more finely tailored than the other treemen: high collared with gold trim, gold buttons, almost a uniform style tunic and virtually form fitting breeches. The belt at his waist supported an ornate rapier, and holstered pistol bowcaster and an ancient lightsabre. I could sense no Force potential in him, so my conclusion: it was an heirloom or one of the hundreds of lightsabres left over from a time before the Empire.

He gallantly strode forward and took my dirty hand and pressed it to his lips. "Baron Ambrose Kentarian," he introduced himself. "But most people call me Baron. Welcome to Arboria, milady."

"Jessica Barimen," I smiled, blushing a little. "My companions are Captain Hawke Hunter and his first mate Chacca."

"You're obviously not with the Empire, so what brings you to Arboria?" He asked, offering me the crook of his arm, which I politely refused. As we walked toward the city proper, I informed Baron of our plight. He assured me there was nothing to worry about Oroblram was the Dromedarian word for the common cold. The Camaroom was used in making an illegal barbiturate.

Baron offered to repair the BlackHawke in exchange for our help destroying the Imperial garrison. I had no love for the Empire, nor did my companions, so we agreed.

With Chacca and me posing as prisoners, Hunter, Baron and his men dressed as Imperial Scouts led us to the rear entrance of the garrison. We had among us enough explosives to destroy two garrisons, maybe three. The guard at the entrance stopped us, as expected. "Corporal, who are these prisoners you bring in?"

"A pair of Rebel spies caught in the jungles," Baron answered. "We believe they were trying to supply the Arborians with arms, but they refuse to give information."

"A few minutes with Commander Drabble . . . ," The guard responded. "Wait, aren't they armed?"

"Of course we're not. You've been in the heat too long," I said calmly, one hand passing casually in front of the guard's faceplate.

The guard shook his head in confusion and said, "Of course they're not. I've in been the heat too, long."

"You've informed the base commander and we're to proceed," I said.

"I've informed the base commander and you are to proceed," he said opening the door. Once inside the door closed behind us. Baron and his men removed the Scout Trooper armor and began passing out thermal detonators. We each had our assigned areas. We synchronized our chronometers and separated.

I proceeded along my assigned path, but found my way into the main reactor power core. I could not resist the opportunity, I activated my detonator, said its timer on maximum delay [which of course is generally unreliable] and placed it beside the core unit. Running toward the rear door, I called into my comlink, "Get out now! The reactor _IS_ gonna blow!"

Our entire espionage team made it out with only a few scratches. One of Baron's men acquired a Mekuun Hoverscout, which made our escape and the trip back to Baron's city swifter. With the Garrison destroyed at the reactor core, Baron and his people would have an easier time erasing the Imperial presence on Arboria, until another was built. Fortunately, that would take some time. When we arrived at the city, Baron declared a holiday.

Hunter, Chacca and I were shown to refresher facilities in Baron's own mansion. Not since Mistress Malina and I left Mimban, had I seen such a large quantity of fresh water. I wanted to soak in the large bubbling tub for hours, perhaps I did, because it was dark when I emerged from the tub. Wrapped only in a towel, I entered the adjoining room where I'd left my clothes and equipment. My vambrace and lightsabre had been cleaned and polished. My tattered dress and worn sandals had been replaced with new ones. There was also a set of ladies undergarments, which I never use, so these I left on the dressing table. As I slipped into the silky blue and black gown, I felt a presence. The dress was alive, a kind of living silk. I felt more at peace with the Force than I ever had before.

The golden sandals like my old pair laced up my calves. They too, had a presence to them in seemed to conform to the very contours of my feet providing the most comfort I had ever felt in a shoe. I snapped my vambrace into place on my right forearm, clipped my lightsabre to it, then went in search of Baron.

A grand celebration was in full swing in Baron's courtyard. Baron himself was dressed even more lavishly than when I first saw him. He kissed my hand again as I drew close. "Baron, the fabric of this dress," I asked, "is it alive?"

"Yes," he explained. "It's made from a plant indigenous to Arboria and cannot be grown anywhere else in the galaxy. It was our primary export before the Empire."

"What keeps it alive?"

"In its natural state it takes nourishment from the sun, water and soil like any other plant," he continued. "But when spun into silk, it forms a symbiotic bond with the one wearing it. Even the Arborian Jedi could not explain it, but it thrives on sweat and body heat. Once a garment bonds to an individual, it will repair itself if torn, it can be used to bind wounds like no synthetic bandage ever could, and even seems to have a limited ability to alter its form slightly to suit the wearer's style. And the oddest thing is it can be dyed any color without harming the plant."

"The one you're wearing seems to have bonded with you already," he mused.

"How can you tell?" I asked.

"The style is different," he said reflectively. "It belonged to a Jedi, my wife, Aurora. That was one of her favorites."

"Was?" I responded.

"She was killed by Darth Vader, or one of his minions," he replied softly. "It suits you. Keep it."

"I couldn't," I said feeling flushed. Humility is not a common trait among Amberites, but I possessed it _[at least at that moment]_. "You honor me, too much, sire."

"Please, I insist. It is you who honor her by wearing it, so long as there is one Jedi there is hope," Baron said, offering me his arm, again. This time I took his arm leaving my lightsabre clipped in place and I smiled. Then I looked at the floor of the tree city and thought to myself, 'I'm no Jedi, just a Padawan. There are no Jedi anymore.'

The celebration went on for two days. Food, wine, ale, and intimacy of all kinds abounded. I felt obligated to decline even the most serious offers of affection remembering Malina's words: 'you must be as pure in body as you are in spirit.' Hunter lived up to his name and made every score he could. He even managed an export contract for Arboria's "living silk."

I stood at the railing overlooking a jungle below when Malina appeared to me as a ghostly, shimmering, blue-white apparition. I knew somehow she'd passed from the living world into the next life. "Jessica, my Padawan, I don't have much time," she said. "Beware Emperor Palpatine. He is the Dark Side. Use your abilities wisely. Seek another Master if you feel you must. Seek the light and follow the code and you will be a Jedi. Do not misinterpret my first words to you concerning purity with parthenomania."

"Thank you, Mistress," I said, "for everything." Baron came up behind me as the vision of Malina vanished. He put his arm around me and asked me to come back to the party. "Baron, I've got to leave," I said. "Thank you for your hospitality and your gifts."

"Where will you go?" He asked puzzled. "How?"

"To find my destiny, out there among the many worlds," I replied finding words he could understand. "The Force will guide me."

"Will you ever come back?"

"I can't answer that now, but I'll try."

"If I can't convince you to stay, then may the Force be with you," he said kissing my cheek. I blushed and climbed over the rail, then down the tree to the forest floor.

I walked the game trails of Arboria, slowly shifting Shadow this way and that until I arrived on Mimban. At the temple the Crystal, I removed all my clothes, my vambrace, jewelry, everything. I walked outside and breathed deeply. The scents of decay, stale water, moist earth, a thousand flowering plants, all these and more mingled together. I began running.

The Force was strong on this world. Life, death, rebirth all around me. The mud of the swamp oozed between my toes. Leaves and twigs entangled in my hair. Dirt under my fingernails, the splattering of mud all over my body . . . the Force was all around me, yet there was something missing. I bathed in a clear stream not far from the Temple and returned.

I took the Jewel from the statue which held it. It was about the size of a small skull or perhaps a large fist. It was warm and cold at the same time, on reflection it reminded me of the Trumps. Its red glow bathed over my body. I saw an ancient ash tree in the glow, deep within the Crystal. I saw a Pattern within the facets. I saw a shapeless writhing tentacled form.

' _Through the Force things you will see. Other places. The future. The past. Old friends long gone.' _

– _Master Yoda_

I replaced the Jewel and dressed myself. Just as I finished, my monthly menstruation began. As the blood began to trickle down my leg, the living silk dress altered its form. I was wearing a pair of black knee length, skin tight shorts and a blue silk, sleeveless blouse. Was it my unconscious desire or will of its own? The blood no longer flowed down my leg. One thing for sure, this was a lot better than other forms of 'feminine protection.' That was an aspect of the silk Baron politely forgot to mention. Then it hit me: my dress would be more real than any other, it was absorbing the blood of Amber. If I walked the Pattern again wearing it, what other powers might it acquire? I was determined to find out.

I had to find my way to Amber. As though in answer to my call she appeared again, The Unicorn, and I heard her say, "One last time my child, then you're on your own."

Anyone who says things are easier the second time around has never walked the Pattern. While pushing through the Second Veil I saw visions of Baron's wife while she wore the dress. Her sense of style seemed to reflect mine. Although the living silk was definitely psychically sensitive, it had no independent will, except its instinct to protect its host [wearer].

When I reached the center, I felt the fabric surging with power, but I did not know to what extent. And what of the influence on my lightsabre? My vambrace? Now I was ready to face the challenges of becoming a Jedi, but first I had to meet the rest of the family . . .

' _Ready are you? What know you of ready?' – Master Yoda_

I was in Amber, but I didn't stay long. I learned about the Trumps, the family history and its Machiavellian tendencies; in less than a week, I returned to Star Wars.

**Amber time: 2288.3-2292 d'L**

I booked passage on the starcruiser, Serina Dawn, bound for Alderaan. The gentleman in the seat beside me wore an olive-brown flight uniform and carried a blaster unlike any I had ever seen before. His tray table was pulled down and he was playing a sort of solitaire with a hexagonal deck of cards. When he finally noticed me staring at him, he paused to introduce himself, "Lieutenant Logan of the Battlestar Raven, fighter pilot, gambler . . . "

"In other words," I cut in. "A scoundrel, rogue and gigolo."

"Hey that hurt," he said. "Not a nice way to say hello or to treat someone who's lost almost everything, even his ride back to the Outer Rim and home."

"I'm sorry," I agreed, reluctantly. "Jessica Barimen, jack of all trades, but master of none."

He smiled, kissed my hand and I flushed. "Would you like to learn Pyramid?" he asked, shuffling his cards.

A few hours went by while he taught me the rules of Pyramid. Suddenly the ship lurched out of hyperspace and the alarm claxons sounded. These were accompanied by the sounds of blaster fire and explosions. Pirates had made a play for the ship, I could sense a large number and strongly suggested to Lieutenant Logan we abandon ship via the nearest escape pod.

We escaped in the last lifeboat and managed a controlled crash on an unknown planet . . . another desert world. As we stepped out and surveyed our surroundings, I saw in the distance a great trapezoidal sandcrawler approaching on the horizon. Whether they were friendly or not the prospect of hiking across unknown stretches of desert seemed far worse at the moment than hitching a ride with an unknown alien.

The sandcrawler labored up the long slope of golden sand that rippled with heat under the twin suns. The immense vehicle moved ahead at a moderate but inexorable rate. Its clanking tractor treads left parallel furrows on the virgin surface of the dune. Logan and I waved and shouted to get their attention, then waited. It was definitely headed our direction.

When the sandcrawler arrived, a large gangway opened and out poured a dozen or so small hooded forms. Beneath their hoods I could see glowing yellow eyes. They carried with them an almost unbearable stench, and seemed to have more interest in the wreck of the lifeboat than us.

Logan took a gamble that they were scavengers and traders. It paid off. He traded them the entire lifeboat for a two-seated swoop and directions to the nearest human settlement. As we approached the sprawling, squalid city of Mos Eisley, a battered Corellian freighter raced over our heads.

Logan and I both agreed a cantina was the best place for us to make our first stop in town, for different reasons. He wanted a drink and a game. I wanted a place to rest out of the heat and to look for passage off this dustball.

It took a few Moments for my eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the smoke-filled room. The odors that permeated the air made the bar on Ingo smell like the jungles of Mimban after a rain. A Bith band played a lively tune that reminded me of the forests of Arboria or Kashyyyk, most humans they say can't hear the natural melodies that inspire Bith music, I can. Behind the bar stood a bulky, middle-aged man, with a late-afternoon-shadow beard, dark bags under his eyes, and a surly attitude from the top of his greasy head to the depths of his stony voice. His name is Wuher.

"Barkeep, one Corellian brandy," I said. "What's all the excitement about?"

"Some crazy old man and a brash kid blasted out of here with a notorious smuggler, named Han Solo," a female Corellian free-trader retorted. " Corrine Silver, pilot and captain of the Spartacus."

"Another modified stock light freighter?" I inquired. "What is it with Corellians and that piece of junk design?"

"They're plentiful and easy to modify," Corrine laughed. "Looking for passage out of this sandbox?"

"How can you tell?" I retorted.

"Your skin's not weathered enough to have been here long and you don't look much like the moisture farming type," she remarked. "Besides that ain't no glowrod on your wrist. With all the Stormtroopers around, a young Jedi might want to get scarce."

"You offering passage or threatening to turn me in?"

"I was supposed to meet with an Ithorian," she whispered, "and then rendezvous with the Alliance."

We waited a couple of days for the Imperials to settle back into their usual lax presence on Tatooine before we left for the rendezvous. When we arrived, the Alliance was planning their strike on the Death Star. I volunteered my services as a fighter pilot as did Corrine. I flew an Incom T-65 X-Wing. Corrine piloted a Koensayr BTL-S3 Y-wing. I was shot down in a dogfight and crashed in the jungles of Yavin IV. I was left by the Alliance for dead, but Corrine found me, seriously wounded, but alive.

Between the _Battle of Yavin _and the fleeing from Hoth, we ran the civilian merchant circuit. During one of our barren periods when we were out of work, we took a rest on a planet called Aluni. I was bathing in a small river in the wilderness and I was lost in the serenity when a group of slavers, all female pirates, struck me from behind causing temporary amnesia.

Fortunately, they left my vambrace on the shore, along with my living silk dress, my sandals, and my lightsabre. Corrine with the aid of a bounty hunter friend of hers, named Marc Windrider, tracked the slavers to their ship and the slave market on the Outer Rim Frontier.

They found me on the auction block, and to their surprise the highest bidder was Imperial Captain Belledonna. She was a member of the Emperor's personal recruiting service and a Dark Jedi. I stood near naked, wearing only a blue, loose fitting, sheer, almost transparent body suit, and chains binding my wrists and ankles.

Corrine provided cover fire while Marc made a move to snatch me off the center stage. He was successful, however, Belledonna had Farseen this event and had her troops standing ready. They were waiting for us at the Spartacus. A firefight ensued, during which time I was knocked against a bulkhead regaining my memory, but unaware of what events had transpired that I ended up here.

We rejoined the Alliance proper and were there for the _Battle of Endor_. I coordinated operations on the medical frigate trying to repair it after the first hit by Imperial T.I.E. fighters. I never saw Corrine or her YT-1300 the Spartacus after that. Marc died in the space battle.

After Endor, I began a crusade to aid the orphans of the war. I became attached to a young female child named Silisity and took to raising her myself. Together, with a tramp freighter pilot named Scandal Jackson, we went into the business of reopening trade routes for the New Republic.

I used my personal Republic bank account to pay for upgrades to Scandal's ship and to buy the YT-1300 out of hock to the loan shark he owed. I later gave him the title free and clear.

Belledonna made her play for the vacant throne. Belledonna, had a personal grudge against me and hunted me down with all of her power. Belledonna killed Silisity and coerced me into tapping the Dark Side to attempt revenge against her. I almost became her servant, but Scandal somehow saved me from that fate.

We met up with a young Jedi initiate who favored the Dark Side, Damien Oma-Guu. During our escapades with him, we discovered Emperor Palpatine had cloned himself and Lord Darth Vader.

We took this news to Master Luke Skywalker at his Jedi Academy on Yavin IV. Damien remained behind to attend Luke's academy.

Scandal and I put into port on New Alderaan looking for a charter. He went to gamble some of his money and to take in a few "girly shows" before continuing any serious business.

I wandered through the city, window shopping. I didn't have much in the way of material needs, but it was fun to look. I guess it's a Jedi thing.

I wandered for several hours. I settled a few minor disputes in the traditional role of a Jedi. Finally, my stomach began to rumble and my mouth was dry. I wandered back to the spacers area of the town to await the arrival of my partner.

I sat in a space port bar. When he failed to show after several hours I began wandering the city, again. My mind began to wander and soon I was shifting Shadow unconsciously. My life changed forever. I found a Shadow I coined Space Shuttle Wars.

**Amber time: 2292 d'L**

**Shadow history: **remarkably similar to the family's favorite _Shadow Earth _until 1990s.

**Time Flow (Relative to Amber): **11 Shadow Years = 1 Amber Month

**Shadow date: **Wednesday, June 2, 1999 C.E.

U.S. Air Force pilot Major Coby M. Damaris volunteered to test-pilot the first NASA lightspeed spacecraft. He breached the time barrier instead.

**Shadow date: **Tuesday, August 3, 1999 C.E.

The last flight of NASA's space shuttle fleet. With the international space station Atlantis completed and the new self-propelled orbital spacecraft the older shuttles are packed away in a hangar and forgotten.

**Shadow date: **January 2250 C.E.

The primary function, the repair and replacement of satellites, became the forgotten part of history. The five 37 meter long, 17 meter high 88,000 kilogram space shuttles began a new life as Earth's last defense fleet. With a new engine and a high-powered laser in the cargo bay area the legend was reborn.

**Shadow date: **November 2260 C.E.

Earth survived its first galactic war. All four of its "space shuttle warships" intact. Space Shuttle Command is officially established the United Earth Space Shuttle Milky Way becomes the first of many in the new defense fleet.

**Shadow date: **Friday, June 2, 2291 C.E.

NASA's first lightspeed craft return home. Space Shuttle Command is now charged with defense of Earth and its colonies.

**Shadow date: **Tuesday, 2 June 2291 C.E.

There was something about this Shadow I found intriguing. The Force was weaker and the technology more primitive than the Shadow I grew up in. Why did I stop here? Why did I stay?

With my experience as a pilot, I could take in a high-level command position. I could have also used the Pattern to manipulate Shadow, but I chose to let things flow as they would. I took a position as assistant flight instructor while attending medical training courses at Space Shuttle Academy.

**Shadow date:** Friday, 27 February 2292 C.E.

He entered Space Shuttle Academy setting the highest score in the history of the school. That day he entered my life. He had brown hair and blue eyes. He also possessed latent powers a kind of cross between the Force and sorcery. He was the reason I stayed, though I didn't realize it then. His name was Coby Damaris.

I didn't notice him until a routine training flight turned into a dogfight. We were at a point in space between Draco's tail and Dubhe in Ursa Major, a point to close for the Draconian Empire's comfort. Our mission was to plot accords back to earth without the computer. Fortunately, we were in fighter planes. We were outnumbered ten to one. Coby's computer was on a programed lock out, for two hours, there was no way to reboot in time to go to lightspeed.

He proved to be a far better fighter pilot than I am. I had three Draconian fighters on my tail and even with the Force I couldn't shake them. My trainee slipped in and destroyed all three, in fact he had destroyed or crippled most of the squadron.

He received a medal of valor when we returned to Earth. "Well done, Cadet Damaris," I complemented via the ship's comsystem. "Perhaps you should be training me. Let's get out of here before reinforcements arrive."

"As you wish, Ensign Barimen," he replied. "I have the course plotted and am ready to jump on your command." Even in the heat of battle he had calculated the precise jump route back to Earth without the computer.

He hated standing on ceremony. 'If you're going to give me an award for doing my duty, just do it and don't make a fuss about it,' was his outlook. Three days later, following a formal ceremony at which he was awarded the Medal of Valor, graduated the academy and promoted to the rank of commander, he approached me and asked, "Ensign Barimen, would you do me the honor of your company at dinner?"

I stood there for what seemed like an eternity. I replied, "Yes, Commander, I'd love to go to dinner with you."

He was the perfect gentleman. He helped me push in and pull out my chair when appropriate. All the 'courtly graces' from a time long past were at his disposal as if he were born to them. His efforts did not go unnoticed, and I seemed accustomed to such behavior as if I too were born to them. We went out several times as our schedules allowed, while waiting on permanent assignment, until 1 January 2294. He was assigned to the S.S. Columbia as a fighter squadron leader with the rank of Commander. I was assigned as a medical intern aboard the S.S. Excalibur with the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Without time to properly store our gear in our respective cabins, the war broke out around us.

The entire Space Shuttle Fleet was in orbit of the Earth within minutes of our reporting in. The galaxy was once again at war, but this time it was an invasion from another galaxy. The Milky Way's nearest neighbor, the galaxy known as Andromeda, for reasons unknown made a play for conquest.

**Shadow date:** Monday, 3 February 2296 C.E.

In the two years since the war started we had not seen each other, but his exploits in combat were legendary. Many of the feats attributed to Commander Damaris put him on a scale with epic heroes like Odysseus, Heracles, and Gilgamesh. He was now acting as executive officer for the Columbia in addition to being a fighter pilot.

Four ships from Earth's Space Shuttle Fleet were engaging Andromedan forces in a barely charted region of the galaxy, the furthest from Sol any Terran starship had ever been since the fighting started.

Four of Excalibur's fighters were attempting the land in the starboard hangar to refuel and reload. The Excalibur took two hits at that same moment, which knocked out main power. The hangar was jarred open. An electrical short circuit caused the oxygen of the entire ship to be vented.

Scanners indicated there were no lifeforms aboard the ship, but he felt my presence. Barely alive, in some form of stasis or hibernation, but so faint that his instruments could not register me. Commander Damaris landed his ship on the damaged runway of the starboard hangar. With little or no regard for his own safety, relying this flight gear alone to sustain him, he searched the Excalibur for her only survivor, me.

Bodies and remnants of bodies that had once been brave defenders of their home planet floated all around him, only the magnetic soles of his flight boots kept him on the deck plates. The emergency power finally kicked in and artificial gravity restored, as he stalked the halls of the once proud ship. He did not take time to mourn; there was a survivor to save. Driven by that one goal, he made his way from the hangar to the bridge using the service crawlways and ladders.

The captain lay dead across the helm controls. The helmsman lay dead beside him on the floor, a metal shard in his heart. I lay on the floor beside the command chair, apparently unconscious. He paused to stare at the scene and my motionless body. In his mind he again described me as a woman of perfect form and grace. I was his vision of the perfect woman and the survivor he sought.

He dared not risk injuring me by trying to carry me for the service corridors and up-and-down ladders. He drew his laser pistol and used it to blast a hole in the bulkhead that separated the bridge from the hangar. He gently picked me up in his arms and carried me through the hole to his fighter. He lowered me into the jumpseat of his plane, then leaped into the pilot's seat in front of me. The moment the pressure seal was in place I woke from my trance. "Thank you," I uttered.

"Thank me, later. We're not outta this yet," he responded firing the engines to full throttle. He flew straight for the Columbia. Only a few enemy fighters stood in their way, which he dispatched easily. He was truly one with his plane.

Earth and her colonies were producing Space Shuttles and fighters as fast as they could, but they were losing the struggle to keep up with Andromeda's superior forces. At the beginning of the war, the Space Shuttle Fleet numbered 700 warships and 28,000 fighters. With the loss of Excalibur, only 126 Space Shuttles remain and approximately 7000 fighters. There was one ray of hope, a new line of fighter planes being constructed, based on Andromeda's technology, and a new or powerful Space Shuttle, the first of which was to be called the S.S. Endeavor II.

The Columbia landed at Space Shuttle Headquarters. She suffered only minor damage, but her crew complement decreased by 25 percent. Commander Damaris was ordered to Fleet Admiral Harrison's office upon arrival, another loss for the Columbia, because he was being promoted to Captain and getting his own command.

I was officially placed on Medical-Rest-Leave pending reassignment. The evening we returned to Earth, Captain Damaris asked, "Wanna go out to dinner with me again, Commander?"

"It's kinda short notice, don't you think, Captain?" I replied.

"Maybe a little," he said. "Please, call me Coby."

"Then call me Jessica," I responded. As I stared into his icy blue eyes, I could not resist him. "Give me two hours to freshen up."

"I'll pick you up at 21:00 then," he smiled and kissed my hand. With his head bowed he slowly backed away from the door of my BOQ (Base Officers' Quarters) room. He began to rise as I closed the door.

I turned to the shower room. I turned on the water, took off my clothes and stepped into the warm streaming shower. I began to rub soap on my body and as the lather thickened my mind wandered. I began to fantasize. I was being caressed by his hands not mine . . . the caress of love became lust; lust became love again . . . Coby's face became that of a stranger . . . all the images began to swirl together . . . I collapsed. All the hot water in the shower must have been used up because I was awakened by the chill of the water, gently falling upon my naked body. How long was I out?

I stepped out of the shower dripping wet and looked at the chronometer on the wall in the next room, 20:45. Coby would arrive in 15 minutes. "He'll probably be late," I thought to myself. "No, not him, it's not in his nature."

I had no time for make-up, not that I used it much. I did not like the way it felt like a mask smothering my skin. I dried my hair and stared at myself in the mirror. Perfect was the word he had used to describe me; at that moment I almost believed it.

As I finished brushing my hair, the door buzzer sounded. No time to put it up properly, though I usually preferred to let it flow naturally. I suddenly realized that I was not even dressed. The buzzer sounded again.

"Just a moment," I shouted. I rushed to the wardrobe and grabbed my living silk dress and ran to the door as fast as I could while slipping my dress over my hips, breasts and shoulders.

I reached the door just as I pulled the strap up over my left shoulder. I quickly ran my fingers through my hair like a comb and opened the door with an apologetic smile. He bowed as if he were raised a courtier. With a smile he kissed my hand and gave me a bouquet of flowers. Looking directly into my eyes he said, "Alas, the princess has forgotten her glass slippers."

I could recall no other time when a man caused the blood to rush into my cheeks, without violence. I blushed slightly as I took the flowers. Trying to hide my embarrassment I said, "Excuse me, I'll just be a moment." I rushed off to find a container for the flowers and to grab my sandals. I paused to strap them on, then returned to the front door, where he stood waiting.

Even dressed down, he had a formal military bearing about him. He wore a blue shirt with a black bib front and gold buttons. His pants were black with red piping down the side seams. He wore his laser pistol slung low on his left hip. His hair, which normally hung at his shoulders, was pulled back in a queue.

I was so enamored with his presence that I couldn't recall the restaurant or what we ate. At 24:00 hours, we were back at my quarters. I invited him in for drink, but he politely refused. He kissed my hand and said, "Adieu, princess Jessica."

"Nus a dhabshun dhuilsha, mo prionsa," I whispered. [The blessing of God on you, my prince.] He made no comment upon my words as he departed smiling.

**Shadow date:** Wednesday, 20 March 2296 C.E.

I received my orders to report to the commander of the newly commissioned

S.S. Endeavor II. The Endeavor was 100,000 tons heavier than the other Space Shuttles in the fleet. She was 100 meters longer with increased armaments. Four squadrons of fighters instead of two filled her landing bays. The crew complement was increased as well.

I was promoted to Commander and assigned as Chief Medical Officer. I was still listed with a current flight status, which meant I was also a fighter pilot. My new commanding officer was, none other than, Captain Coby Damaris.

Two days into our first patrol, it became obvious that Captain Damaris had handpicked his crew. The odds against us were five to one. We won the battle without a single crewman lost. Four fighters suffered damage, but all landed safely.

Over the next two years his legend grew, godlike powers were attributed to him, for his ability to out think the enemy. He became known as the greatest military leader in Earth's history.

He made me his executive officer in 2297. On several occasions he left me in command of the Endeavor, while he led the attack in his personal fighter. I had to block out the com-chatter every time he did in order to concentrate on my duties instead of holding my breath.

**Shadow date:** Sunday, 29 May 2298 C.E.

He was returning to the hangar with his throttle locked open and short one engine. All routine protocols had been followed, but it was no use, his ship would not power down. The barricades were set up and the fire suppression teams were standing by. His last words, before crash landing, were, "Jessica, I love you. Marry me."

I left one of the junior officers in charge and rushed to the hangar deck. I reached the hangar as his ship came to a stop at the barricade. One of the deck hands held me back saying, "It can blow any minute!"

Climbing out of the cockpit Coby casually remarked, "Give her good wax and don't forget to clean the windshield."

Pushing the mechanic aside, I rushed to my fiancé. I threw my arms around his neck and kissed his lips. "Yes," I said. "Yes, I will marry you."

"Commander, not in front of the men," he laughed.

"Shut up and kiss me."

**Shadow date:** Wednesday, 1 June 2298 C.E.

Our engagement was short. We were married in naval tradition. He wore his full dress uniform, which included a ceremonial sabre. I wore my blue and black living silk dress with the hem lowered to the top of my bare toes. Our second officer, Commander Deric Windstar, presided over the ceremony.

"Do you, Captain Coby Damaris, take this woman," asked Commander Deric Windstar, "Lieutenant Commander Jessica Barimen, to be your wedded wife?"

...With the war now in its fourth year, the honeymoon was short-lived, yet memorable. In what would be "our cabin" for a very short time, I could feel his desire for me from the day we met, now that I gave him the chance he dreamed of, I feared it, perhaps I was parthenomanic. Still, Coby took me into his arms and kissed me.

My body trembled, but he calmed the storm within my tortured soul. We had one long, delightful kiss that put us in the mood for love.

We moved over near the bed. I slipped out of my dress, taking it off very slowly, yet seductively. Odd how the Force turns things, Malina saved me once from becoming a sex toy, and now I was married to my commanding officer during a galactic war.

Coby looked down at my naturally hairless vaginal area. It was already a virtual steam bath between my legs, natural fluids already making their way out. The sensations rippling though me made me feel weak in the knees. Every second seemed like a century as he admired every curve of my shapely 34-22-34" figure.

He approached and began licking my teats all over. He took them into his mouth, slobbering all over them, making them rise to attention. While he licked my breasts, he stuck three fingers into my sopping vagina. I could have released right then. He had me on the verge of a nipple orgasm. I'd heard about them, never thinking it possible. I became a believer at his expert tongue work.

I was temporarily dizzy from the rush of sensations consuming me. This was a Moment I was not about to forget! Sweet juices raced from me as he brought his tongue to my vaginal crease. And then he stuck his tongue against my velvet rim, sending my body into immediate spasms!

I was shaking all over, making the bed rock with my motions. All my fears and hesitations were washed away. All my fantasies could not have prepared me for just how wonderful it was.

He slid his tongue along my rim, content to work at a slow pace. This was a man who cared about a woman's pleasure, wanting to offer her the highest form of stimulation.

He fingered me while he licked my labial rim, then he stretched my vaginal lips apart like he was opening a pair of curtains. With a quick movement he pushed his tongue against my clitoris! I saw stars flashing before my eyes, almost immediately. I will admit that from time to time I did masturbate using my fingers, but self-stimulation cannot compare with a loving husband licking your clitoris.

He worked all over my clitoris. It pulsed, like a heartbeat, as he made love to it. He licked from every angle, making it turn bigger, the size of a cherry pit.

But he didn't stop there. He offered the same loving stimulation to my labia and vulva. The sensations of ecstasy escalated as his tongue moved faster and at a more erratic pace. I spewed my discharge over his tongue, making my pathway all the more slick.

I humped my body forward, forcing his face further into my crotch. I could barely catch my breath under the circumstances. My chest thudded like a jackhammer as the sensations intensified. Coby licked me over for ten minutes until I was begging him to bring me to climax.

"Coby, make me cum now!" I screamed. "Please, Coby, let me cum now!"

When he heard that command, he licked with more force; causing the exquisite sensations to escalate inside me. It was soon time for me to experience sweet release. He licked my clitoris again, playing with it like a kitten and a ball of yarn. I cradled the back of his bobbing head as I exploded, cumming in ways I never imagined possible.

The first rush of climax hit me like a thunderbolt. I started spilling sticky cum into his mouth. Then the orgasms kept coming, turning more intense by the second. I lost control of my body as it spasmed for well over a minute. One orgasm gave way to an even more breathtaking one. Coby couldn't possibly keep up with the river of fluids flooding from my vagina. Hot sex juices dribbled down his chin as the vaginal quakes continued. I thought they were never going to stop. I was a victim of the orgasms. It was as if I'd been saving up that one orgasm all my life, saving it for the right guy. I never wanted it to end.

But it eventually did, leaving slight aftershocks that were just as wonderful to experience. Finally, he raised his head. Plenty of cum glistened on his chin like glue. I motioned for him to move closer to my face. When he did, I licked my oils off his face. I've licked my fingers many times when I masturbated, but I could not recall tasting quite that sweet.

Now it was his turn. I removed his pants and kissed his penis all over. Sure I wanted it inside me, but it was only fair. I took him as far into my mouth as possible without gagging. He made grunting sounds once I licked the length of his shaft. I went down a few inches to lick his testicles and took each bloated ball into my mouth. They were swollen, heavy with semen. From the size of them, I doubt it would take much to coax a gallon of cum from his rod.

I kept up the same skillful sucking procedure, listening to his sweet moans and groans. That was an indication that he was about ready to pop off. I wanted to taste my lover's cum on my tongue. And I got my wish when Coby began pumping thick spurts of cum against my tonsils. I swallowed slowly, polishing off the last of his sperm. I kept his penis in my mouth a while longer almost hating to part with it. But there was another part of my anatomy . . .

I reclined on the bed, legs spread wide. Barely able to say the words from my state of excitement, "It's time to fuck me, Coby. Make love to me now."

He thrust into my vagina, pushing his penis inside very slowly. I braced myself for pain, but there was only pleasure to experience. Soon his entire shaft was inside me. Coby kissed my mouth while he drove his penis in and out of me. I was so slippery with oils that he slid in without much effort. My muscles worked their way around his penis anxious to draw every ounce of juice from it.

"By the Force, I love it!" I screamed raking my nails up and down his shoulder blades. The blazing fires within me turned to scorching infernos as my darling husband taught me what it felt like to be loved and not just fucked. Soon, I got into the rhythm, pistoning my hips into his, bodies slapping together in unison. My musky juices drenched his shaft as we held on tightly. I rode the wave of passion, knowing that Coby couldn't hold on forever.

I begged him to fill me with his cum. His body went rigid, just as he plastered my insides with lots of cum! I joined him with another involuntary release, all those oil gushing like Raven Falls on Endor! It was such a beautiful Moment hat it brought tears to my eyes. I held him inside me a while longer, wanting him to never pull out. But finally he did.

"Thank you," I whispered. I drifted off to sleep soon after, completely exhausted. I awoke wondering if it was all a dream, but the sweet smells that still lingered in the air told me it wasn't.

The next morning, Coby got up, showered, and left to get breakfast for us. I had changed the bedding and cleaned up myself by the time he returned. We ate in the living room and discussed the events which led up to last night.

"Coby, would you consider doing that again?" I asked letting my dress fall from my shoulder and left breast.

He slowly rose and moved toward my chair. He knelt down beside me and kissed my turgid nipple gently. Until Coby, I had been a virgin in the pure sense of the word, having never been with a man in a sexual relationship.

We were naked again, this time on the floor of the living room with a rug for a mattress.

Half the Galaxy had surrendered or fallen. The Space Shuttle Fleet was reduced to twenty, only seven were combat ready. The rest needed extensive overhauls or even scrapping, but that was not an option.

A monumental warship, nearly half the size of Texas, parked in orbit between Earth and its moon. "People of Terra," echoed the calm, commanding voice of Andromeda's Emperor over every broadcast frequency and the Solar system, "I grow weary of this conflict. Surrender now or I will destroy this system personally."

In reply, the following message was transmitted, "This is Captain Coby Damaris, commanding the Endeavor II. Timidi ante mortem sescenties moriuntur. Fortes autem morte tantum semel fruuntur.

Or as Shakespeare wrote it in 1599: Cowards die many times before their deaths: The valiant never taste of death but once. I cannot accept surrender. I will fight alone if I must. Let those who would forget those that sacrificed everything for freedom tuck their tails and get off my ship."

My chest swelled with pride for the gallant, impetuous defiance of my husband. No one left their posts. All stations reported combat ready. Every ship in our Fleet that could fly took position in formation behind the Endeavor.

"Nil desparadum. Dum spiro spero," Coby muttered over the open comline. [Never despair. While I breathe, I hope.] "Commander Andromedan dreadnaught, we represent the last of the Earth Defense Forces. We ask no quarter for ourselves, but as we are acting against the orders of Space Shuttle Command, we ask mercy for our people should our final strike fail. Morituri te salutamus." [We, who are about to die, salute you.]

Our Fleet closed on the enemy vessel. The Potemkin exploded taking the Jyhad and five others with it. The Wolf was destroyed, before a single fighter could launch. The Columbia and Excalibur III were next to die. The Yorktown and Republic were adrift. The Atlantis, Pegasus, and Ishtar held back to defend the wounded. Only the Endeavor II and the Star Empire were left to engage.

"Captain Damaris, a wager? If you can defeat me in single combat, I will give your Galaxy a decade of your years to rebuild. A tenth of a century to consider total surrender, or destruction. However, if I win it all ends here and you will be the first servant among your people to swear allegiance to me!" The ominous voice echoed.

The com-chatter stopped as Coby and the Andromedan Emperor made terms on a secure channel. Soon after, four fighters landed on the surface of Mars, two from the Andromedan warship, and two from the Endeavor.

We were miles from the cities. Coby and I leaped from our fighters, embraced and kissed for what could be our last time. The Andromedan Emperor and his chief lieutenant stepped forward. "Greetings, Captain Damaris," he said, "pity we could not meet on more amicable terms. I am Andor, ruler of Andromeda."

It was the first time I saw those blue eyes and young, hard, slightly sharp features beneath a mass of pure white hair. He was dressed all in black, save for a bit of white collar and sleeve showing beneath a glossy tight fitting jacket. This was my first encounter with the man whose face would haunt me the rest of my life. His Shadow identity he called Andor, but his true name [the one I will never forget] was Mandor.

If only I had used my powers and Farseen my future I would have tried to kill him then, but this was a field of honor and not even mine. In his gloved hands, Andor held forth two identical, silver and black cylinder-shaped objects. Crude and unrefined designs by my standards, but they were unmistakably lightsabres, or fusion swords as some may call them. [I had kept mine hidden all these years and now I wish I had it with me.] Andor called them 'na lannan soillse,' which is Thari for 'blades of light.'

Coby chose a weapon and activated the green-white beam of energy. He swung a few practice strokes to get the feel of the blade. He turned and executed a fencing salute, then assumed an 'en garde' stance.

Andor returned the salute and the duel began. Lunge, parry, and riposte. They seemed equally matched. I watched each skillful stroke and realized I could easily defeat either of them with my lightsabre.

Thrust, parry, feint, riposte, parry . . . neither man willing to give, neither tiring.

'_Anger, fear, aggression . . . the Dark Side are they.' – Master Yoda_

Andor struck a blow, which grazed Coby's flight jacket, leaving a tear in the shoulder. I gasped. I felt a surge of dark power and a chill, which prompts the old saying, 'as if someone just walked on my grave.'

My husband had taken the offensive. I could feel his anger and Andor's fear. Blow by blow the aggression and hatred increased. Andor was faltering. He tripped, fell, and dropped his weapon . . . Coby raised his fusion sword to cleave the final blow . . .

"No!" I commanded. Our blades crossed less than a meter above Andor's head, mine and my husband's. I do not know by which power I had called it, but there I stood with my scarlet bladed lightsabre in my hand. I had closed the three-yard gap between us and blocked a fatal blow with my Jedi weapon. "You have won, my beloved. Calm. The war has ended."

"Yes, Captain," Andor said, out of breath, "you have won. I will keep my word. My forces will leave for one decate of time. Rebuild if you can, we will meet again."

He looked straight at me with his last comment. In an instant eye contact, I learned he was a man of substance, not Shadow, with a powerful mind. In a blink he was gone, as if by magic, along with all his forces, leaving a void for mercenary dictators to fill.

Over the next three years, Space Shuttle Command Headquarters/Academy moved to the abandoned Moonbase Alpha. The new Fleet construction began. Coby was promoted to Admiral in 2299, just before the Colonial revolt began with the destruction of Space Shuttle Headquarters at Cape Kennedy on Earth. All senior command staff was killed. Coby was now the ranking officer.

Another three years of war followed, this time between Earth and her colonies. In the end the Colonial Empire was formed and only the colonies of the Sol System remained loyal to the mother planet. A new breed of ships would emerge from this conflict, a new Space Shuttle Command, under the leadership of Fleet Admiral Coby Damaris.

A new alliance was forged, however, when the Colonial Empire found itself caught between the reformed Draconian and Scorpion Empires.

**Shadow date:** Friday, 4 July 2302 C.E.

Four years of marriage and I hardly knew my husband. From one war to another, he was always gone, or I was. When he was in our quarters, he would be working or sleeping on a stack of battle plans or technological diagrams.

Finally I 'd had enough. Two days ago, I marched into his office and said, "Admiral Damaris, as my commanding officer I insist you accept my resignation; as my husband I insist you take some time off to love me or release me."

"As your husband, I beg your indulgence of two more days," Coby replied with a calm voice, "And I'll take you anywhere in the galaxy."

"Meet me in the city of New Denver on Titan," I said turning on my heel in a perfect military maneuver. "Two days or not at all. Two days or I promise you I will vanish forever."

I returned to my quarters. I removed my uniform and tossed it in the hamper. I walked determinedly into the shower room. This was a purification, a cleansing . . .

I entered the shower, Admiral Jessica Damaris, commander of the Space Shuttle Star Empire. The water was hot, almost scalding. I began to scrub until my flesh was nearly raw. Thirty minutes later the water was near freezing cold. A fresh clean layer of skin shone radiantly on my body. I stepped out of the shower, Jessica Damaris, wife of Fleet Admiral Coby Damaris, a Jedi, a civilian.

I was determined to resign my commission, though it never happened.

For the first time in years, I put on my living silk dress. The warm tingling sensation as it soothed my raw skin made me shudder. I opened a drawer and removed a black vambrace and clipped it on my right forearm. Despite the relative length of time I had gone without it, the feeling of belonging and comfort remained in as if I had always worn it. From the same drawer I withdrew my lightsabre. It too felt natural as its weight was added when I attached it to my vambrace.

Using another of my unusual abilities, I made a sketch of the New Denver Spaceport. I stared at it a moment and stepped through the drawing into the actual space. There were people everywhere, the sounds of flight announcements and mixed conversations, but no sign of military uniforms anywhere. The air was thick with scents of sweat, food, and exhaust fumes. These things most citizens take for granted, to me it was the sight, sound, and smell of freedom.

I had two days alone to center myself before Coby joined me. I decided to spend them in the woodland valley below New Denver. I hailed a sky-taxi.

"Where to, Miss?" asked the driver in a distinctly New York accent.

"The ranger station at Schmid Park," I replied.

"Any luggage?" He asked.

"No, this is a survival trip," I smiled.

Schmid Park was little more than a recreation facility and emergency shelter. The terraformed forest was the real challenge. It rivaled the ancient forests of old Earth and travelers from all over the Galaxy came to live with nature for a short span. I had to be careful not to muse too much or I might end up on Arboria, or Kashyyyk, maybe even in Arden, the forest that surrounded my true home, the City of Amber.

I exited the taxi and ran for the forest, past the ranger station and all the visitors to Titan. The presence of natural energy was so strong I hardly believed the entire forest was transplanted from Earth only 200 years ago. I was so caught up in the life and beauty around me that I ignored the sensation of being watched. This was the sensation only someone with intimate knowledge of powers like mine would get. It was a real threat and not just paranoia.

I ran until I felt my lungs would burst on my next breath. My legs were unable to support my weight. My heart was pounding like a drum against my chest. As slowly and gently as I could, I sat on the ground. I crawled over and leaned against a tree. I had purified and purged my body, now, through meditation, would come the mind.

'_You must feel the Force around you – here between you and the tree, the rock, everywhere.' –Master Yoda _

Gently on the wind, through the rustle of the leaves and branches, I hear my name. It was the voice of a tree I had not heard since childhood; the tree called Yggdrasyl, the tree of life.

Plunging deeper into my soul I hear another voice, soft, musical. A vision in my mind's eye, an intricate maze of numerous curves and straight lines, it is the Pattern of Amber.

Deeper still is a dark place containing a three-dimensional design and continuous flux. A thing, which I can only surmise, is the Logrus of Chaos.

Finally there is nothing, but the slow, steady beating of my heart and the sound of every blood cell coursing through my veins. Here is the edge of life, the beginning and the end. I awoke both tired and refreshed. My mind was clear in my body needed nourishment.

I became a hunter. I called upon my power to enhance my senses. I used it to enhance my stealth. I became aware of my stalker. I was being hunted, but not by any ordinary predator. I was being pursued by a human or greater intelligence.

'_Knowing where the trap is – that's the first step in evading it.' – Duke Leto Atreides_

I wouldn't lie in wait; become the hunter again instead of the hunted. Carefully I selected my ambush sight. It was a huge creature, feral and demonic. I had never seen its like before, yet there was something familiar about it.

Lightsabre in hand, I leaped to attack. It turned as if it anticipated my attack. In fact it blocked my attack with its left forearm. It wrestled my lightsabre from my grasp with its right hand. Even before he began to change shape, I knew him by his eyes. "Andor!" I shouted in surprise.

"Actually, it is properly Mandor, son of Gramble, Lord Sawall and Gride," he smiled. "You are Jessica Barimen, daughter of Oberon of Amber."

I was speechless. He knew or claimed to know the identity of my father. He grabbed my wrists.

"Surprised that I know more about your heritage than you do?" he continued. "The Courts of Chaos keep a closer watch on the House of Amber than even Dworkin suspects."

"What do you want with me?" I asked. "Surely you didn't come to this Shadow seeking me out. If you had, we would have met before."

"There is a war coming. A war between the Courts and Amber," he replied. "I came here seeking a power to help destroy the Pattern. What I found is you."

"I will never help you destroy the Pattern or bring any harm to Amber," I insisted struggling against his grip on my wrists.

"Perhaps not, but our child might."

A vision of him standing over me with my legs over his shoulders entered my head. A single thought formed into a word, that word amplified by the Force became an attack upon Mandor from the dark depths of my soul . . . "CRIDHEIGINN!" Perhaps it was a word I created, but in Thari, it would mean heart-crisis, or heart attack.

'_It is the future you see.'– Master Yoda_

'_A Jedi uses the Force for knowledge and defense, never for attack!' – Master Yoda_

Mandor released my wrists as he staggered back clutching his chest. My lightsabre flew into my outstretched hand.

'_Take your Jedi weapon. Strike me down with it and your journey toward the Dark Side will be complete.' – Emperor Palpatine_

I couldn't. I wouldn't do it. It was against the Jedi code, and everything I believed in. I would not kill a man in cold blood. That decision, however, would haunt me for the rest of my life. My desire to escape his presence was so great and the Force so strong that I literally teleport away.

I teleported right into my husband's arms. "Jess? Where did? How did?" He muttered.

"Only the Force knows how, but I teleported," I answered with a kiss shutting off further questions.

Nine months later I gave birth to my only son, Sean. (Friday, 10 April 2303 C.E.)

**Shadow date:** Wednesday, 1 June 2310 C.E.

Sean's control of the Force rivaled mine. His intelligence was almost equal to someone twice his age. There are even signs of innate Shadow manipulation ability.

Fusion swords were standard issue to Space Shuttle Command personnel in addition to the laser sidearm. I even returned to duty as an instructor, since I am the only one with any real training in their use. My best students, of course, were my son and my husband.

The new fleet of carrier craft numbered two hundred thirty-seven ships. The remains of the original Space Shuttle Fleet added another seventy vessels. Thousands of fighters and one hundred of the new three-man interceptor/patrol ships completed the inventory, not including maintenance and emergency rescue pods. With this we began the Second Space Shuttle War, when Andor returned.

This time, however, his goal was not to conquer the galaxy, but me.

**Shadow date:** Thursday, 14 July 2310 C.E.

I had recently given birth to a second child; a girl named Julie. I became more complacent, secure in my role as a mother and part-time instructor. I had become overly reliant on Space Shuttle Command security, particularly the Black Cougar team that served as personal security for the high command.

The Andromedans had infiltrated our security at the highest level. Five men, led by a blonde woman, named Aphrodite, had infiltrated this elite force, with clearance codes high enough to open the security lock on the private stateroom of the commanding admiral.

I sat calmly in a lounge chair nursing my infant daughter watching a holo-vid. I heard the hiss of the cabin door open and close behind me. There came no familiar sounds of greeting. There was no, 'Hi, honey,' from Coby. No 'Hi, mom,' from Sean. Not even a 'pardon the intrusion, ma'am.' Only silence . . .

My laser pistol was in the sleeping chamber on the bedside table, along with my lightsabre. Six heavy stun blasts hit me, and my child. As my eyes closed, I saw the face of Aphrodite, and then I blacked out.

I awoke countless trillions of light years away in a chamber that can only be described as a dungeon or torture chamber. This was where the humiliations . . . violations began. I was bound and suspended from the ceiling by ropes on my wrists. "You're awake, good," echoed an unmistakable voice.

"Andor!" I demanded pulling against the ropes, "release me!"

"I told you once before my name is Mandor with an M," he chuckled. "I also told you that I will have you birth my child."

"Never!" I spat. "My husband will come for me . . . "

"Your husband is but a creature of Shadow," he laughed, "and I will quell your resistance."

There are moments in your life when time is irrelevant. This was one of those times. How long I endured his abuse I don't know. Details have been buried and are best not repeated, suffice to say I suffered almost every type of BSDM1 you can imagine and some I hope you never will. I was beaten, raped, tortured . . . only the Force and my Amber born regenerative abilities kept me alive . . . but my resolve remained. He never had me willingly.

He began the last session conditioning me with droids. The first was designed with lifelike hands which fondled my breasts, while two vibrating appendages penetrated me. One of them in my anus; the other my vagina. The thing also has another device which tickled my clitoris at the same time. The thing excited every sexual nerve in my frail body.

Its movements were precise and calculated. It even forced me to suck my own excretions off of its appendages.

After what seemed like days, it stopped. A new droid was brought in. This one was anatomically correct. Mandor commanded me to kneel before it. He commanded me to take its penis-like appendage into my mouth and suck it with careful instructions as to how. I can't recall how long I endured these tasks, or whether they were repeated any number of times. This time, I no longer had the will to resist, and I knew every pain; every humiliation of it all, I cried tears of defeat.

Mandor stepped forward, dropped his pants to his knees and ordered, "Now mine!"

Dutifully I knelt before him. I pumped him with my hand as I had been taught, and lowered my mouth to engulf his head.

He put his hand on the back of my head and jabbed his penis down my throat, his heavy testicles banged against my small chin.

What remained of my own will, screamed for him to stop, but he just pumped away, moving his hips so his hard penis glided down my throat. I could not utter a sound with my mouth stretched wide open, nor could I help feeling some of the desire he drew from the moment.

I kept sucking and listening to his moans and groans. Suddenly, Mandor began pumping thick spurts of semen into my mouth. I almost gagged. He told me to relax and swallow slowly. That was the final humiliation . . . I was lost. A single tear began to roll down my cheek.

My nipples were so hard they hurt, but Mandor ignored them. He hiked my dress up to my waist. Lifted my legs above his shoulders, took his penis in his hand and prepared to plunge it into me.

I was no longer sure whether out of desire or fear, but I waited in anticipation for his entrance.

Was that an alarm? Guards in the next room? An explosion?

I felt the warmth of his presence touch my trembling body . . . my husband burst in blaster firing. He killed my torturers and turned to Mandor. "Come now, Admiral," my chief oppressor taunted, "after all we've been through, are you just going to shoot me? Where your sense of honor? At least let me have a rematch with the na lannan soillse."

Coby holstered his pistol and drew his fusion sword. Mandor in turn activated his own. The two began as before. This time Coby and advantage. Mandor's attention was no longer on me, suppressing my powers with magic. I turned my attention to Coby and enhanced his warfare skills with my powers. With my help Coby began inflicting mortal wounds upon Mandor. Finally his shape shifting could not keep up with his injuries and Mandor fell. There was no sign of life, not even a heartbeat. We were both convinced Mandor was dead. I was naive about the nature of primal shape shifting or I would have taken more drastic measures.

**Shadow date:** Wednesday, 20 August 2313 C.E.

Sean had a command of his own. Coby and I had contracted an interceptor and gone to explore the galaxy as a married couple instead of Space Shuttle Command officers. I found myself altering Shadow to suit my moods . . . three moons over a tropical paradise . . . a rainbow nebula . . . before long we were no longer in the Shadow of Space Shuttle Wars . . . or anything close. Our ship crashed in the swamps of Mimban and I was the sole survivor . . . I ran in panic and anguish . . . mourning . . .

Sunset, sunrise, moonrise, moonset. I was Hellriding quickly through Shadow days past like hours, even minutes. A Shadow that is best described by the terms beautiful, mystical, magical and deadly.

I was in a mountain valley. A roaring waterfall cascaded down from sand colored cliffs. Below the falls an inviting pool of crystal clear water. A twisted, old tree rose out of the waters. By the looks of its exposed roots, the pool was lower than normal.

I stopped running and sat on a large rock beside the pool. I removed my sandals and dangled my feet off the edge of the rock, swirling them calmly in the cool water. I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the raging water; the creatures of the woodlands around me. I took in the scents of flowers, water plants, the crispness of the very air sweeter even than Amber. I could feel the warmth of the sun high above and the mist off the cliffs. It was as sensual as a lover's caress might be. This was the closest I had been to the Force and what seemed like an eternity.

Finally, I removed my dress and my vambrace [lightsabre still attached]. I laid them on the rock neatly beside my sandals. I stood in stepped off the rock into the icy water. A chill rippled up my spine as my shapely bottom touched the water. I lay back in the water submerging as much of my body as I could.

I heard the cautious hoof-steps of a woodland animal approaching the shore. Using the Force to maintain the calm and harmony, I slowly rolled onto my stomach trying not to startle the beast.

I propped myself up on my elbows and waited. I bent my knees bringing my calves and feet out of the water as well.

She was small, muscular and slender. From the underside of her neck to her underbelly she was a pinkish, almost flesh-tone tan; the rest of her the color of brown sugar. Her short chocolate brown mane had the appearance of either a razorback or having been cropped. Her cloven hooves shone like polished onyx, as did her eyes. Her tail was like a lion's. Her head and body were like a deer, except for the single horn. The horn in the center of her forehead had a slight curve like an impala's, but it was smooth, not spiraled.

She held a rose in her mouth. She paused at the water's edge, and walked through the water toward me. She stopped and I looked up into her eyes as she dropped the rose into my cupped hands. Her eyes were full of green leaves, crowded with trees, streams and small animals. The whole scene began reminding me of the novel by Piotr S. Begal – Das Las Einhorn [known on Shadow Earth as Peter S. Beagle – The Last Unicorn]. Her eyes were full of life, not just mere reflections like most creatures. They were windows into her soul, instead of mirrors of the present. She was not the Unicorn of Amber, but she came close, a relative perhaps.

The rose she brought me filled both my hands due to its size. Its color reminded me the Kaiburr Crystal. The scent was ecstatic, almost hallucinogenic.

Had it not been for my unicorn companion, I might not have noticed the three satyrs that watched me for the old tree. One of the satyrs stepped into the water and my four legged friend startled. I reached out through the Force for my lightsabre, and teleported it into my hand.

Slowly, the satyr approached, hardly disturbing the still water. The unicorn ran off into the woods, but I knew she watched. I could sense their feelings. Their desires as the other two satyrs leapt from the tree and proceeded toward me. The first was just out of range of my meter long blade, when I jumped to my feet activating the weapon. I wasn't going to submit to ravishment without a fight.

I emasculated the first one with a single stroke of the crimson colored blade. All thoughts of debauchery vanished with the masculinity of their companion. They picked him up and fled in terror. 'Chase after them . . . kill them,' came the dark sinister voice in my head. A voice I recognized to be my own. 'They'll only come back for you or wait for someone else.'

' _Once you start down the Dark path, forever with a dominate your destiny, consume you it will.' – Master Yoda_

I let them go. I'll not give into the Dark Side that easily. I walked to the rock and stepped out of the water. I put my clothes on and continued walking along the shore downstream. The sun slowly setting behind me. I wondered, "Does every Jedi hear their own voice coaxing them to the Dark Side?"

' _Is the Dark Side stronger?'_

' _Quicker, easier, more seductive, but no, not stronger.'_

–_Padawan Luke Skywalker and Master Yoda_

**Amber time: 2293.30 d'L kanam**

I received a Trump contact, from Dworkin and returned to Amber. Dworkin taught me how to imbue my vambrace's computer with a Trump Deck and how to make it a psychically sensitive recording device for my journal. He taught me how to use Trumps and my own powers to hide myself from Mandor, et. al.

**Amber time: 2293.2 d'L desta**

The size of the city was roughly that of Shadow Earth's 20th Century New York, but it had a darker, more Gothic feel, with familiar elements of Coruscant mixed in. I could see dark shapes gliding between buildings, gargoyles? I heard a howling in the distance; an answer nearby. Werewolves!

The sounds of running, painting, a faint cry for help assailed me. I focused on the sound, zeroed in and called upon The Force to teleport me nearby. A woman was being pursued by three men. She stumbled and fell. The men closed in on her. I moved in. Two of them flew over my head as I hurled them by the collars of their shirts. The third I whirled around and kneed the stomach.

The first two got to their feet and produced knives. There was no time for subtlety. The first one lunged; I sidestepped him and drew my lightsabre. The second made a slashing motion. I countered with a slash of my own. The jingle of his blade as it hit the ground was almost musical. He stared unbelievingly at the bladeless hilt in his hand.

"You don't want to continue this fight," I said using the Force to press issue. "You want to go rethink your lifestyles."

"We don't want to continue this fight," they repeated, trance-like. "We want to go rethink our lifestyles."

The woman had vanished without gratitude, but no matter a Jedi does not seek such praise. A Jedi is the guardian of peace and justice. I begin wandering the streets of the city; observing, but not interfering.

The pangs of hunger started creeping upon me, as well as a burning desire to relieve my bladder. A "hole-the-wall" restaurant around the corner would do nicely. I walked in and pushed my way past a group of people at the bar to the ladies' room in the back corner. I found an empty stall; entered it and closed the door. I lifted my skirt and sat down on the commode. Normally I ignore graffiti, but the words: "Death to Tyrants!" "Where have all the heroes gone?" "Burn Bariiman!" "Slay the Dark One!" Caught my attention.

I finished my business, washed up, and left the ladies room and re-entered the main room of the restaurant and found a table. The clientele appeared to be the dregs of middle-class or the upper crust of the poor. I was over dressed for this place, even though I had adopted the more traditional Jedi look. My living silk dress now appeared as a blue, wraparound tunic tucked into a black skirt. I had given up the medieval European style months ago. I wore a robe that was black and sleeveless, but still bore a hood, and also had a gold colored lining. I wore a golden belt with a silver unicorn in its center where the buckle might be, but my belt buckled in the back with a simple hook and eye. I still wore my vambrace on my right wrist with my lightsabre clipped to it. I also still wore sandals laced up my calves, but they were no longer gold, but black.

A comely woman approached my table and recited the menu. I ordered a burger, onion rings, and dark ale. She departed with my order. As she left, I opened my senses to the room around me. The room reeked of fear. Few spoke above a whisper, those that did were extremely intoxicated. There were comments about my attire, and questions about my origin and motivation. Statements about my resemblance to Jessiica Bariiman, also known as the Dark One. A few even noted that my lightsabre resembled the one carried by The Dark One. No one was brave enough to approach me directly. Whispers of "witch," "sorceress," "dark one," abounded. Not desiring to court trouble I ate and soon after departed . . .

I woke a hospital room. A tall, handsome, dark haired, blue-eyed man stood over me, a doctor? I had never seen before, but there was something familiar about him. "How long?" I asked, "What happened?"

"You've been here in a coma for two weeks," he answered. "By all indications you were attacked by a werewolf. From the extent of your injuries, no one expected you to live."

"Rapid healing runs in my family," I boasted.

"It seems to run in your clothes, too," he continued. "We had to cut them off you, but they seemed to …"

"There is nothing unusual about my dress," I said summoning the Force. "You will bring it to me now."

"I will bring it to you now," he said turning toward the wardrobe. Removing my dress from the wardrobe and carrying it to my bedside he continued, "there's not a scratch on it. When you came in, we had to cut it off you, but…"

"Enough about my dress," I said. "Give it to me."

The colors were dull and faded. It had been locked up in the closet away from light, water, and my body since I was brought here. I wonder if my living silk can die, and how long it would take. I could feel life-force of my dress, but it was weak. The moment my hand touched it, however, I could feel it grow stronger. It was part of me and I part of it.

I threw aside the bedsheets; tore off the hospital gown and ripped out the IV lines. The doctor started to protest and his eyes met mine. His will a strong, but mine was stronger. "Silence," I mentally commanded. "Watch and relax. Enjoy the spectacle."

The blood from the IV lines rolled down my arms. As I began to put my dress on, it touched and absorbed the blood on my arms. Instantly the life returned to it; the colors brightened. The Force flowed through me; through the living silk. I focus upon my wounds and they healed completely.

My dress had been stored in the wardrobe, which meant by sandals, cloak, vambrace and lightsabre were probably there also. I removed them one at a time as I finished dressing. My vambrace first, then my lightsabre, sandals, and finally my cloak. Once again I was dressed as the Jedi of Amber that I am.

Finally coming out of his trance-like state the doctor said, "My name is Karl Robinson. You are the most incredible woman I have ever seen."

"Jessica Damaris," I replied, using my married name since there seems to be a dark Shadow of me here using a variant of my birth name, "thank you. Now if you will sign the release papers, I'll be about my business."

"Gladly, but you have no money; no ID," he pointed out.

"I'll manage," I replied, "I always do."

"At least, let me buy you dinner," he insisted. "My shift is over in a few minutes. You can wait here and I'll bring your release papers, when I come take you out."

I agreed.

"_Every Jedi should spend time meditating each day on the will of the Force." - Master Odan-Urr_

Time passes quickly during meditation periods; visions come and go. I saw a black-furred beast, knock me to the ground. Its claws raked my chest and abdomen. Its teeth aiming at my throat. Something wild within me… my blood was boiling… the moon would rise full in sixteen days.

Karl entered the room and I woke from my meditation. "Ms. Damaris, you're cleared to go," he said. "Shall we go to dinner?"

Despite my efforts to the contrary, over the next week, I saw more of Karl than I should have. I found myself drawn to him somehow. More than once he said he loved me… five days 'til full moon…

A disturbance in the Force… she hunted me…

I will spare you the details of our affair… Moonrise… my blood boiled… my muscles ached… I ran out of Karl's apartment. Karl ran behind me calling my name …

An ancient graveyard in the shadow of a ruined church… a break in the clouds… moonlight shining bright down upon me…

My body twisted, upon my knees I fell… my ears elongated…

For the first time in my life hair grew to cover my body… four additional breasts began to grow… my teeth more pointed.

"_Whoever is bitten by a werewolf and lives, becomes a werewolf himself." - Maleva (old gypsy woman): The Wolfman_

Karl caught up to me as the transformation neared completion. Horrified he screamed and ran. Never run from a wild animal it attracts their attention.

"Kill… run… kill… hunt…" were the only things on my mind. I charged after Karl. When I assumed my true form, I knew why I felt such connection with him. I knew the taste of the blood on my lips… the blood of Amber . . . the blood of power . . . thinned at least two generations of Shadow, he was descended from Oberon . . . I never saw Karl again… I hope he lived, but it was improbable.

"_There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. _

_There is no death, there is the Force."_ _– Jedi Code_

Twilight was upon me, and I felt the urge to transform. I resisted and it passed over me. I knew there were creatures that would not. The hairs on the back of my neck began to rise… I was being hunted . . . again . . .

What of the curse of the werewolf . . . is it a virus that can be cured or something else?

**Amber time: 2294 d'L**

The werewolf virus was gone . . . purged by the Force and the blood of Amber.

It's occurred to me that I have a weakness, not unheard of among Amazons of legend, however unusual among Jedi or Amberites. If I am bound by men, I cannot escape, easily. I wonder if my mother might be partly to blame for that. What were the circumstances surrounding my conception by Oberon?

Where I was and how I got there I do not remember. Who they were and why they held me I don't know. They weren't human . . . shapeshifters of some sort. Perhaps it's my destiny to suffer unending torture . . .

They held me prisoner in a dungeon darker and damper than any in Amber. I'm not sure how much time actually passed, but it seemed and eternity:

I was bound spread-eagle to the floor and raped repeatedly by the six of them. My breasts were bruised and bleeding from their rough handling and biting on them. My anus and vagina both sore and bleeding. Then they left me alone for a time, chained wrist and ankle to the floor.

When they returned, they chained me to the ceiling. The tips of my toes barely scraped the cold, damp, bloodstained floor. I felt the sting of a leather whip against my naked back. Through the Force I held back my pain, not giving them the satisfaction of crying out or showing any sign of displeasure. I could feel the flesh splitting and the blood begin to trickle . . . still I had no concept of time. I had been swaying with each stroke of the whip, each time my toes scraped the stone floor, now blood dripped from their tips.

They poured salt on my nearly fileted back, a single tear rolled down my cheek, but I made no sound. I forced myself into a hibernation trance.

They were persistent with their tortures. When they returned again, they placed leaches on me. Hot coals and broken glass were placed on the floor beneath my feet. I was lowered sightly, and the balls of my feet almost could reach the floor now. Then they swung me like a pendulum, back and forth, over the glass and coals. My feet were cut to ribbons and covered with third degree burns. I began to ache and grow cold from blood loss. Perhaps because I had endured so much before, I knew I could resist outbursts until they killed me, but I wanted to live! I screamed . . .

My pains were so intense that my cry sent ripples through the Force, waves so deep that the leaches shriveled and fell off. I was so drained that I hardly noticed being lowered into the smoldering coals and broken glass. I had given them what they wanted. They had broken me.

Finally unchained, with roaring laughter, they threw me into a corner still bloody and naked. "Here, my queen, you can have your dress back," one of them mockingly said tossing my living silk dress at me.

I had to stretch out my leg to reach it. I was almost too weak to move. When my bleeding toe touched the blue and black gown, I collapsed, but the symbiotic entity sprang to life.

I felt a calm rushing over me, the warmth of the sun, the cool tingle of a forest stream, the gentle softness of a rabbits fur, the scent of a spring rain. My Arborian companion had covered my entire body, like a cocoon. Slowly, almost like a lover's caress, it began to resume its usual form. My wounds were healed, my body still sore, but I was whole.

I could feel the exhaustion of my symbiotic companion, intensified by my own. I reached out with the Force to draw strength for both of us. Cold . . . darkness . . . like a Trump . . . "Coby!"

He somehow survived the crash. He had tracked me across Shadow. Was there more substance than Shadow to him? Through the Force and the Pattern I could feel the truth of it . . . It wasn't a delusion or a dream, he was there, my husband was alive!

It was too dark to see clearly. I used the Force to magnify the light from the coals. The shadows grew longer, my sense of despair began to return, but he could see me now. I tried to reach out . . .

He held me gently, but tightly, in his arms as he did the day we 'crossed the threshold' of our cabin on the Endeavor so long ago. I could hear the echoes of his footsteps as we ascended the stairs from the dungeon to the upper floor of the keep itself. I could smell the blood of those that had held me prisoner. I was, too, exhausted to open my eyes, but through the Force I could feel the level of suffering that had occurred upon his arrival, none survived.

Finally outside standing atop a tower of the castle, I surveyed the world I had stumbled into. The royal had guard carried blasters and forcepikes. Their armor bore a darker, evil looking version of the Royal Crest of Amber, yet reminded me of the Crimson Guard of Palpatine. The city resembled Coruscant. Everywhere I looked, I saw reminders of my home Shadow, yet it still resembled a cold, dark, twisted version of the true city . . . Amber. I wanted to go home . . . to Amber, but somewhere in the back of my mind was a warning to stay away.

"We could stay here and rule," he said. "I have defeated the dark visions of ourselves that created this place, along with that thing which took the form of Andore and held you prisoner to replace the empress his sadistic mind destroyed."

'_Through the Force things you will see. Other places. The future. The past. Old friends long gone.' – Master Yoda_

From his description of her I learned, Jessiica was weaker, more timid than I expected. She was slightly taller; her hair darker, browner, shorter; her eyes blue as the sparks from the Pattern; her skin paler, softer; she even had the "natural" body hair I did not. She had been a puppet ruler, under the control of Andore. This was the dark world the Andor . . . or Mandor, as he called himself to me, during my imprisonment and torture years ago . . . I had known wanted to create.

'_It is the future you see.'– Master Yoda_

This was not a future I wanted to live, nor a place I wished to dwell. "Coby, let's go home," I managed.

"As you wish," he said, "but how?"

"Put me down, I'm strong enough to stand now," I replied. As he did, I bent down and I reached inside and drew forth from an alcove near where we were standing my vambrace and placed it on my forearm. Next I drew forth my lightsabre and clipped it into place. Lastly I drew forth my sandals and strapped them on. It mattered not that they had been lost somewhere else. They were here now, for the castle in which I stood was in Shadow. Turning toward Coby, I said, "Follow me . . . "

'_Always in motion is the future, difficult to see.' – Master Yoda_

Despite everything, I did not become agraphobic or genophobic, nor did I become a nymphomaniac: id. est. afraid of sexual abuse or sexual intercourse, nor develop an abnormally intense sexual desire

'_Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering.'– Master Yoda_

I led us back to 'Space Shuttle Wars.'

_**Amber Time: 2294 d'L – 2404 d'L **_

_I remained forgotten in Shadow._

_**Chapter 2**_: _Return of the Forgotten_

**Amber Time: 2404 d'L (~2010 C.E.)**

I remained forgotten in Shadow until after the Pattern Fall War Era (2387.4 d'L rakasa / through 2390.5 d'L desta ~/).

In the shaky alliance that exists between Amber and the Courts of Chaos, it has been decided vendetta between the two courts and in the house of Amber must be stopped.

King Random of Amber ordered all the known descendants of Oberon to find any others of Amber blood and bring them back alive and unharmed.

It has been ten years, Amber time: 24 years Shadow Earth time, since Merlin ascended to the throne of Chaos. A great many things can happen in ten years . . .

I'm not sure why but I had a sudden urge to travel to Amber. I climbed into a fighter and launched into space, my destination Amber. Shifting shadow into space is a taxing but not impossible task. You fly through the stars and eliminate certain constellations, replace them at others, move planets, destroy moons, fly past supernovas, witness the birth of new stars . . . the list goes on. Unfortunately, you eventually come across a shadow where technology ceases to function. When you do, you try to manage a controlled crash.

I was coming down, hard and fast. All of my instruments were out and my attitude controls were shaky at best. I dug a huge furrow in the ground as I crashed. From what I could see amidst the smoke through my cracked cockpit I was in a forest. There was no power to raise the cockpit and despite my Amber-born strength I could not push it open. My lightsabre had fallen into the floor beyond my reach, I therefore blasted the canopy with Force lightning.

As I stood in discarded my helmet, my living-silk dress changed from a flightsuit back into its original form. I climbed out then leaned back to retrieve my lightsabre from under the seat. After clipping it back into place, I looked back at the damage I'd caused. "Could've been worse,"I though, "any crash you walk away from is a good one."

I walked across the surface of the ship and jumped off the back into the pit. I used the Force Force to raise and tilt the ship until I could reach the storage bay beneath. With my lightsabre I carved open the bay and removed the duffel which contained my emergency supplies.

1Bondage, Sadism, Discipline, and Masochism

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